Page 70 of Burdened Bonds

I swallow the liquid. “I’m fine.”

He goes to inspect the mended wing, stroking his hand over the thin tissue. “You did a good job.”

“You think it will work?”

As if the dragon thinks that question is directed at her, she stretches out her wings and flaps them through the air. I hold my breath, half expecting the thing to rip in half again, but it holds, the air beating around us.

The dragon makes that rumbling growl in the back of her throat, puffs of smoke issuing from her nostrils and then she lumbers up onto her feet. She tests her weight gingerly on the mended leg, and then finding it strong, leans her full body weight onto it, curling and stretching her razor-sharp talons. On her feet, the dragon seems even bigger, towering above me, Renzo and Pip, and the daylight has every one of her rusty-gold scales shining like polished shields.

She lifts her head, gazing up at the sky, smothered in thick winter clouds above us, and then peers back down at me.

She meets my eyes, roars and then shakes her head, the metal chain rattling, the sound echoing off the rocks.

And I know what she’s asking.

I raise my trembling hand, but Renzo bats it away.

“I’ll do it,” he says, and the metal collar and the four metal cuffs spring open in unison and clatter to the ground.

The dragon looks at us both, stretches out her magnificent wings and this time beats them through the air with such force both Renzo and I are thrown backwards. I wait for her to lift up into the air and soar away. Instead she lowers her head to the ground and snorts.

“What’s she doing?”

“I’m no dragon whisperer,” Renzo says, “but I think she’s inviting you to jump on board.”

I stare at him in disbelief. “Seriously?”

“Either that or she’s going to eat you.”

I clamber up onto my feet and step closer.

“Are you sure?” I ask her, even though I have no idea if she even understands me.

The dragon snorts, and ripples her scales.

“You want to ride her?” Renzo asks.

I look over my shoulder at him, like, duh. Of course I want to freaking ride her.

Carefully, conscious that she may still be sore, I reach up above my head and take a grip of the top of her neck. I attempt to drag myself up, but I’m weak and I don’t have the strength. Then I feel a pair of strong hands clasping around my waist and lifting me upward. With his help, I slide on top of the dragon’s neck, swing my leg over and shuffle backwards onto her back. I wait for her to move. She doesn’t. She remains in that position, this time eyeing Renzo.

“I think she wants you on board too.”

“Fuck! You think?” he says, his face filling with boyish excitement.

“Either that or she’s going to eat you,” I say with a grin so wide my cheeks are hurting.

He jumps up onto the dragon with ease and I expect him to plant himself firmly in front of me, taking control. He doesn’t, he shuffles himself behind me instead, settling down so his body is pressed right up against mine, his hands back on my waist. I’m not sure he needs to be quite that close, or hold me quite that firmly, but it sends my bond wild and so I don’t complain about it.

The dragon lifts her head, peering upwards a second time, and then flaps her wings. Beneath us, her musclesripple and flex and then we’re lifting off the ground. At first she’s working hard, her wings beating with force as she raises us vertically through the gap in the crevice, but as soon as we’re into the open sky, she spreads her wings as wide as they will go and then we’re soaring, flying over the snow-capped mountaintops.

28

Stone

Rosa hooksan empty jar off a shelf, dunks it into the bubbling liquid and secures the lid. Then she’s thrusting it into her granddaughter’s hands and pushing us towards the doorway.

“Go!” she hisses, “I’ll keep them distracted for as long as I can.”